


Heartbeats and Other Little Clues

by MissLee



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLee/pseuds/MissLee
Summary: Written for this prompt I got in my ask box:Johnlock prompt: typical fanfic with mutual pining. They both think the other doesn't love them back, plus John thinks Sherlock is onto him because ofc Sherlock sees all. But he doesn't know. Bonus points if you include the sentence “no, John, we are talking about the man who can't tell if someone has feelings for him unless he takes their pulse”.





	Heartbeats and Other Little Clues

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! This one had me for a bit at the beginning there but I got something done for it :) Who knew taking a look at things from a different angle helps? Not me, apparently.
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://missleeismyname.tumblr.com/)

 

* * *

Another nightmare - dream, whatever - another day. The contents of his nightly highlight reel had changed ever since he’d met Sherlock becoming more vivid and more aching the closer they became. His feelings were harder to keep a lid on than ever these days. Certainly Sherlock had noticed by now - the lingering touches, longing looks, and sleepless nights all amounted to one damning picture: John Watson was hopelessly in love with the one and only Sherlock Holmes, detective extraordinaire. 

The situation is then made exponentially worse when out of the blue, that evening Sherlock suggests they order in and while their even away channel surfing. 

John is momentarily taken aback when Sherlock chooses to sit next to him on the sofa rather than tucked up in his leather chair, but it makes for a strangely companionable evening. At some point they end up pressed together from shoulder to thigh and giggling happily while Sherlock corrects the television and points out obvious flaws in the filming processes. Well, that is until a rom-com comes on and John becomes spectacularly uncomfortable. 

“Are you alright, John?”

Sherlock is looking at him oddly, almost like he’s grown two extra heads since he last looked at him. 

“Fine, fine.” John insists and looks back towards the telly.

“You don’t _seem_ fine: closed body language, stiff-set jaw, a veritable death glare if I do say so, and all since a romantic - and apparently funny - film came on”

John squeezes his eyes shut, ready for the onslaught of embarrassing deductions that were sure to come. Except they don’t.

He opens his eyes and turns back to Sherlock who’s looking at him now with something akin to wonder. 

Slowly, and ever so carefully so as not to startle them out of this moment they’d found themselves in, Sherlock’s palm comes up to rest delicately on the side of John’s face. The movement is tentative and unsure like a new born deer just finding it’s feet. 

“How long?” Sherlock whispers. 

John lets himself push into the warm touch. “Since the pool. How did you not know? I’ve been - god - I’ve been mooning about after you for months. You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“John, we _are_ talking about the man who can’t tell if someone has feelings for him unless he takes their pulse.” It’s so absurd that they just laugh, sitting there in the dark, the couple on the telly sharing their first kiss, and lean into each other and don’t move until the sun comes up. 


End file.
